A horrible truth

I have something to tell you all. It’s not good. Not good at all. But I feel I must share it if I am to have any hope of ever moving on. This horrible truth is tearing me apart.

Last weekend I visited my parents. Before I left, I decided to clean a few things out of my old room — you know, so my parents house isn’t junked up with my old stuff. As I was going through my closet I came across … I came across … oh, it’s almost too much to bear … I came across this … 

Yes. It seems as though at some time in my childhood I owned a Duke basketball jersey. Perhaps I even wore it out in public. I must have worn it to high school basketball practice. Our colors were blue and white. Does that explain it away? Oh, please say so, God! I cry out to you, Lord! No, that can’t be it. The jersey isn’t reversible. Wearing it at practice makes no sense. I am tortured!

I know my hipster love or irony was not developed enough in my teenage years to ironically purchase a Duke jersey back then. Or was it? Can I pretend to know anything about myself now? Who am I?

I truly have no recollection of ever wanting a Duke jersey. Or ever rooting for Duke. In fact, I naturally assumed — like any person who tries to live a good life — that I have always hated Duke. Right from the womb. But there was the cold reality staring me in the face: DJ Gallo … Duke fan?

No, it’s too horrible to even think. 

Dare I ever look in the closet in my old room again? What else could I find in there? What other horrible truth could I discover about my youth? 

Unless I find the corpse of … say, Cherokee Parks … buried way in the back of the closet, instantly jarring my memory: “Ahh, yes! My childhood was also full of noble pursuits like murdering Duke players! And that the Duke jersey I originally found was ripped off of him in the struggle,” … short of that, I fear I have a lifetime of sobering reflection and self-loathing ahead of me.

I hate myself.

And you should hate me, too.


12 responses to “A horrible truth

  1. It’s ok, DJ. Yes, everyone hates you now (who didn’t already), but maybe it was a misguided birthday present from a relative- “Hey, DJ likes bball, and Duke’s really good right now, I’ll get him a jersey!” Now whether you actually wore the jersey, in public, not on Halloween dressed as a flaming Dukey, that’s the real question.

  2. What white kid from suburbia wouldn’t have fallen in love with Laettner and Hurley? Come on, those kids showed us white boys that we can play bball too. But you are right, self-loathing and some form of catharsis are required.

  3. have you considered that someone might have placed that…thing there on purpose as a “joke”? does jj redick know your parents? is it likely they would collude with him in such a crime? Trust no one!

  4. visited your parents? so you came up from the basement?

  5. You only wore it those times your uncle made you put it on while he molested you. It’s a repressed memory now.

  6. sportspickle

    “Suburbia”? I was straight up rural, yo. I’d say my area was more Pittsnogle than Laettner.

  7. Dude, it was obviously planted there by one of your enemies in an attempt to undermine your credibility. Finding the culprit shouldn’t be hard. Just run down the list of everyone who hates you, and examine the jersey to see if there’s any evidence that can be tied to any person on that list. For example, on the jersey, are there any:

    Knife cuts?
    Goat hairs?
    Empty steroid needles?
    Pictures of young men grabbing indiscriminate crotches?
    Golf clubs smeared with masacara?
    Stubble and/or grass clippings?
    XXXXXXL Notre Damn golf shirts?

    Hmmm…this might be tougher than I thought.

  8. I bet it was a dirty hobo!

  9. Do you by chance really like the Genesis album “Duke?” That might be an alternative, more understandable explanation.

  10. don’t pretend you were going back to parents house to clean out your old room… we know you still live in your moms basement

  11. I want to have carnal pleasures with you, and I’m a man!

  12. I bet it’s your brothers. If not, you probably have a Ray Lewis jersey packed away somewhere too. OOOH! Or a Baltimore Colts jersey.

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